


Werewolves & Winchesters

by CLeighWrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brutal Death of a Loved One, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fiance Killed by Werewolves, POV Alternating, POV Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Has Feelings, Sam Winchester Saves The Day, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26339806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLeighWrites/pseuds/CLeighWrites
Summary: The Winchesters had been too late to save your fiancé, but where does that leave you?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Werewolves & Winchesters

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for @atc74’s Collaboration Challenge Contest. If you’re a judge and happen to see this, please **STOP READING NOW!**
> 
> I picked the prompt, “Maybe I’m just meant to be alone,” and the pairing Sam x Reader.  
> Part of the challenge was writing a drabble with 750 or fewer words and without a beta! This was super tricky; thankfully, Grammarly is a thing!! Hopefully, it's not too terrible to struggle through!

It was cold, that kind of cold that could be felt in your bones; the depth of cold that would never be able to be shaken off. She had found a corner and curled in around herself, knees up to her chest, head buried in her lap, and hidden under her arms. If she couldn’t see anything, she could pretend like it wasn’t happening. However much she’d wanted to, she couldn’t close her eyes. When she closed her eyes, her mind flooded with visions of Seth. His bright as light smile, his deep blue eyes, that little vee that would appear between his eyebrows whenever she was being particularly obnoxious. Then there were more recent flashes of his mouth, slack and spewing blood, and his head twisted at a sickening angle as he landed haphazardly on the floor of－wherever they had been brought. 

Focusing on her breathing was the only thing keeping her sane. Everything she’d seen, it couldn’t be possible, and yet, she had witnessed it with her own eyes. Those _things_ had ripped Seth apart. Literally. Why hadn’t they come for her, too? There’s no way they were just going to let her cower in a corner. When she heard footsteps heading in her direction, she felt around with one arm for anything she may be able to use to defend herself. Not that it would do any good, but she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Rough wood worked its way into her grip, and she gave it a test lift, it wasn’t terribly heavy, but it was solid; it would have to do, whatever it was. 

She had been against the wall behind some barrels; knees pulled up to her chest, face buried, her arms protectively around her head; covered in mud, blood, and dirt, her clothes were shredded and soiled. Sam kept his hands up, and his steps light, not wanting to frighten her more. Sometimes, he thought idly, being as big as he was, wasn’t a blessing. As he stepped nearer, he leaned forward to kneel a few feet away from her, then she screamed and lunged toward him with a long, broken stick in her hand. He was able to grab the remnants of a pitchfork before she was able to hit her mark. 

“Whoa, whoa! You’re okay; I’m not one of them.” She fought for control of the weapon while he tried to reason with her. She must have been through so much. If only they had been able to get there sooner. “I’m here to help,” he pleaded with her.

A brief moment later, she must have registered his words. The fight left her, and Sam was barely able to toss the makeshift rod to the side before she collapsed into his arms. Sam felt something within him surge at the feel of her; there was some inexplicable pull toward this woman. It was the same feeling he’d had with Sarah from New York, all those years ago. He hadn’t felt it since then, and Sarah had been _so soon_ after losing Jess. 

“Seth,” she muttered into his chest. Sam stiffened, not wanting to shatter whatever hope she may have been clinging to. “They- they _tore_ him _apart_.”

Wide, wet eyes looked to him for answers, answers he knew he had to give her.

Sam kept his eyes on hers as he answered, quietly, as if that would soften the blow. “They were werewolves.”

“Werewolves.” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath; Sam was enamored with her already. “Werewolves killed my fiancé.” She was taking this better than Sam had expected, then she burst into hysterical laughter. “Of course, werewolves would kill my fiancé!”

She was practically vibrating with delayed adrenaline, pacing around the small alcove. 

“I’m sorry,” Sam offered, not really knowing what else he could say. 

Her head snapped to look him in the eye again. “Are they-”

“We killed them all, my brother and I,” Sam reassured her. “You’re safe. Um, what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she answered reflexively. “We were-” she chuckled humorlessly. “I guess it doesn’t matter what we were doing. Maybe I’m just meant to be alone.” 

The unyielding sorrow in her voice made Sam resolve to do everything in his power to make her doubt the validity of that statement. Y/N, as far as he could tell, was a strong, determined woman; Sam would see to it that she got everything she wanted, what she deserved, and more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't be shy; let me know what you think!


End file.
